Give me a Reason
by McWilsonluvr08
Summary: Wilson is faced with his greatest challenge yet: convincing House life is really worth living.
1. intro

Please be NICE!!! This is my first House fic, and I know they seem-well are OOC, but really, how would YOU guys act if your closest friend called you up to tell you goodbye? Reviews are loved, please let me know how to improve writing the best bromance tv has ever seen. Enjoy! More chapters if it is well received.

* * *

(9:30pm)

It was any other typical night, and James Wilson had settled in for a nice and hopefully uneventful, night of sleep. The type of sleep where there were no dreams, just relaxing darkness. All in all it had been a relatively normal day, no terminal patients and even House had been quiet.

"Perhaps it's a new case." he supposed aloud, as if to convince himself of his friend's absence. Sighing tiredly, he allowed his eyes to close.

(10:30pm)

The ringing of his home phone should have been the first clue that this night would be one he'd never forget. Groaning, Wilson contemplated letting his machine pick up the call. Sleep won the battle and darkness once again claimed our beloved oncologist.

(10:45pm)

This time when the phone rang, Wilson swore and reached angirly towards the reciever.

"HELLO?!" he barked, then quickly checked himself. "Um. Wilson." he answered, his voice much lower. No one replied, and Wilson promptly hung up. "Stupid kids." he mumbled, easing back into the land of sleep.

(11:00pm)

When the phone rang again, Wilson didn't even stir. If it was truly an emergency, his pager would go off, wouldn't it?

(12:00am)

The phone had been ringing off and on for the past hour, and Wilson was no longer sleeping. He was no longer peaceful either, seeing as how every time he picked up his phone someone's breathing was the only respnse he got. The number was blocked, so no way of figuring out who it was. . .

(12:30am)

By now Wilson's blood pressure had to be off the charts, and he was sure his left eye was twitching. Who the hell had he pissed off in a past life to...and then it hit him.

(12:32am)

In the middle of the first ring, Wilson flung himself at the phone.

"_House_." he greeted through clenched teeth, his head starting to pound. A breathy chuckle was his reward for his deduction.

"About time Jimmy. I was beginning to get tired of pushing redial." By reflex, Wilson pinched the bridge of his nose.

"House. Couldn't you have waited until tomorrow to-"

"No. I couldn't. See I-"

"Look. It's been a relatively nice day and I kind of wanted to keep the ball rolling and have a nice, _normal_ night. You know, one that _doesn't_ include popping pills or drinking myself into a stupor." Wilson cut him off, pausing to control himself. "House...don't you ever get tired of these games?" he asked quietly.

"Not with you. You such a little puzzle, so full of twists and turns...I could never assume anything with you Jimmy, ever. And I love it." The words were spoken so freely, so openly, that Wilson removed the phone from his ear to stare at it in shock.

"Are-are you high?" he finally managed to ask, a hidden piece of him desperately wanting House to say no. House laughed.

"No. I'm not. I just wanted to play one last game with you, and tell you goodbye."

(12:45am)

"House I don't understand. If this is some kind of sick twisted game-"

"Oh please. Even I have standards James. No games anymore. No pain, no lonliness, just death. And I wanted to tell you some stuff before..."

"Before you off YOURSELF?!"

"You're yelling."

"YOUR'RE _SUICIDAL_!"

"Technically, I'm about to commit sucide. _Technically_."

". . ."

"Don't make this harder than it has to be. Christ, I sound like my father. Or the man that raised me because you know biologically speaking..."

"_Greg_."

"_James_. Oh god we're using first names."

"You called me James first!"

"You're yelling again. And I called you James to highlight the seriousness of the situation."

"IT STILL IS A SERIOUS SITUATION!"

"Enough with the yelling! Fine. First names. Now stop avoiding. Look, I just wanted to tell you GOODBYE. I didn't want you to hear it from Cameron or Cuddy that I was found in a pool of my own blood, I want to give you closure. I want you to understand. Because we both know how you are when you don't understand."

"If I might recall, you're the one who goes crazy with the unknown."

"True. But if MY best friend up and died with no explanation I'd go crazy not knowing why and with all that's unspoken between us..."

"In that case, we'll be talking for awhile."

"I know. Why do you think I called your house phone?"

* * *

In case it wasn't clear enough, House blocked his number to screw with Wilson "one last time." Reviews are love, and suggestions as to what they will talk about are welcomed! Have a nice day^^) Oh! And this story is VERY strong friendship. yeah.


	2. gearing up for war

_Sorry for any errors, I have no beta : ( Enjoy! The story will become more organized next chapter._

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(12:51am)

House sighed. Wilson inhaled slowly, then exhaled sharply.

"This must be some type of game."

"You must be in _some_ type of denial. Wilson..."

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"How about 'Don't do it? Live?' That'd be a nice start."

". . ."

"Are you okay?" House asked, a little unsettled by Wilson's lack of response to well, anything.

"Shouldn't I be asking YOU that?" Wilson responded bitterly. Realizing he would be getting no rest for at least a few hours, he sat up in his bed, resting comfortably against the headboard. House seemed to have already made himself comfortable, as there were no noises in the background.

"Hmm...bitchy. Didn't expect that."

"Well I didn't expect to be woken up by my best friend who is apparently suicidal."

"We're not best friends. Never were."

"What?" Wilson gaped in shock. House scoffed.

"Shut up Wilson. We'll talk about that later."

". . ."

"Are you crying?"

". . ."

"Wilson?"

"I. . .don't feel so well."

"What?"

"I think I'm going to throw up."

"Damn it, you're always doing something."

"No Greg, that's you! You're always doing something!"

"Are we back to the first names again?"

"Oh god-" Wilson rasped, and the next thing House heard was the phone hitting the floor.

"Uh, Wilson? James?"

". . ."

"Um, yeah. Call me back when you're done puking-"

"DON'T YOU _EVEN_ HANG UP!" Wilson roared from somewhere far away. House sighed. After a few minutes, and rushing water, Wilson picked up the phone. "Okay. I'm Ok."

"Liar."

"Whatever. Talk."

". . ."

"Oh so now you're the silent one? Greg-talk. You wanted to talk, so _talk_."

"I don't think I like your attitude JAMES."

"Well jeez. I'm so fucking sorry that I have an attitude. How did you expect me to react?"

"I have a feeling that's a trick question."

"Did you want me to hand you the gun? Sharpen the razor blade-"

"Prescribe the pills?"

Wilson's blood ran cold at the statement. For a moment he could've bet his soul that he was about to throw up again. Placing the phone down, he fought hard to contol his breathing. He wouldn't cry. He would not cry.

"I really don't want to fight." House said softly. Wilson picked the phone up again.

"Please don't do this Greg."

"I need to."

"And I need you!" Wilson yelled, and for once didn't attempt to explain his words.

"Yeah. . .Is that supposed to make me feel better? Good Saint Jimmy needs the crippled bastard Gregory House. Fuck you Wilson. Fuck. You." With that, House hung up the phone. Wilson was pretty sure he'd thrown it, because he heard the sound of some piano keys, and then the line went dead.

* * *

(1:15am)

This time it was House who was about to go crazy. His phone had been ringing non-stop for the past fifteen minutes.

"Stop calling my damn phone!" He yelled into the reciever.

"The hell I will! I talk and you hang up on me?!"

"I'M supposed to be talking. You're supposed to _listening_ jackass. But forget it."

"Forget what?" Wilson's heart dropped.

"Everything. See you at work Monday."

"You're lying."

"Shut up Wilson. Go back to sleep. This is only a dream."

"I'll call Cuddy. The police too!"

"Oh I'm really scared now." House laughed loudly. The fact that it sounded so sincere made Wilson's eyes burn.

"I swear on everything Greg. I'll call them right now." He reached for his cell phone.

"Go ahead James. I'll be dead before they can even dispatch an ambulance to my address."

"Why? WHY do this?" _To me?_

"I can't do it anymore. I'm too tired." _Can't you see?_

"Of the pain?"

"No. I can deal with the pain. I mean it sucks, but I can't deal with people. My JOB."

"I thought you liked your job."

"Your patients die. All the time. It's to be expected. But my patients have a chance to be saved. Most of them. It's like, I'm this world famous doctor because of how _smart_ I am. How _great_ I am at diagnosing patients, treating them for an illness someone else missed. But when I fail, I'm looked at like I'm some type of failure. I'm like Kobe Bryant. Only popular when I win. But when I lose. . ."

"I had no idea-Greg, no one blames you if you can't solve a case."

"Have you met Foreman?"

"He doesn't-"

"And Cuddy? You know, the one with the nice ass?"

"Greg-"

"Then it's like 'Why couldn't you save her House? Too high to even notice? Or care?' I'm not some fucking addict. I don't pop pills to get _high_. I pop them to _function_. And just because I don't go around hugging trees like Cameron doesn't mean I don't give a damn. I hurt like anybody else. I _feel_ like anyone else. I just don't express it, and all I wanted was for somebody _see_ that. Acknowledge it."

"...Wow."

"Yeah. WOW. The beast has a heart. Call the papers!"

"You're not a beast Gre-"

"And you..._you_ Wilson. Always calling me an addict. Giving me looks of disgust whenever I asked for a refill. I could move past the infarction. I could even get over the pain and the hideous scar. I can't-won't move past being treated like a failure at life, you looking down on me."

"You have a _problem_ House."

"I'm not an addict. I just abuse prescription medication."

". . ."

"Wait."

"_Yeah_."

"It's not about the fucking pills! I needed a friend! Support-"

"Don't even think of saying I've never supported you House. I've always been there, maybe if you weren't so-"

"High?"

". . ."

"_High_ Wilson? Is that what you were going to say?"

"Greg-"

"Don't call me that."

"I didn't-"

"Go to hell. You're more heartless than I ever gave you credit for."

"I'm not heartless." _I'm just scared._

"Do you think I'm _proud_ to admit that a pill holds so much power over me? Do you _think _I like limping around in constant pain? Then when I take my usual _normal_ dose I still get dirty looks. Do you-" House broke off into silence.

"I didn't-" Wilson hesitated. "I don't consider you an _addict_ addict House. I know you don't pop pills just to get high. I never-"

"YOU never took the time to try to see the real me. And you didn't care. As long as you were needed. You still don't see me. And I'm sorry, but that's just not acceptable anymore."

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_Thank you so much for your reviews! I couldn't have asked for a nicer reception. I know the guys seemed scattered, Wilson is just shocked and trying to get it together. House is, well depressed. I never thought this story would seem unique^^) If anyone thinks it's a good concept, please use it! I'm pretty sure they could do it better than this newbie. Reviews are hugs!_


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